


Tabula Rasa

by Prochytes



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Dollhouse, Sherlock (TV), Torchwood
Genre: Crossover, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-30
Updated: 2012-07-30
Packaged: 2017-11-11 02:16:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prochytes/pseuds/Prochytes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The search for a clean slate did not begin in Gotham.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tabula Rasa

**Author's Note:**

> Small spoilers for The Dark Knight Rises and Sherlock 1x03 “The Great Game”. Originally posted on LJ in 2012.

 

1.

 

“My... associates call you ‘the Professor’.”

 

“Americans.” His eyes had not shifted from his BlackBerry. “You’d call anyone that.”

 

“And ‘the Napoleon of Crime’. You are kinda short, I guess.”

 

He clapped one hand to his chest, and furrowed his brows as at a mortal blow.

 

“Can you give me what I want? The clean slate?” Selina was careful to keep the need out of her voice.

 

“I’m not in the business of ‘giving’, honey. But if you fetch me the Agra Treasure, I’ll share some names you might pursue.”

 

“Deal.”

 

“Shame you didn’t come to me earlier.” He grinned at the BlackBerry’s tiny screen. “I just rolled up a car firm that would have suited you down to the ground. Leave them the box the Treasure’s in, though. I want to imagine their faces when they open it.”

 

“Not a problem.”

 

“I didn’t think it would be.” His gaze was still riveted to the screen. “You’ve got guts, Selina Kyle. And if you don’t put back the key you just lifted on your way out, I’ll use them to restring my violin.”

 

2.

 

The Englishwoman’s office in L. A. was _made_ of money, money that had been whipped and spun and coddled and caramelized to within an inch of its pecuniary life. Selina felt like a girl in a sweet-shop, on the verge of diabetic coma. But she wasn’t here for a heist.

 

“It’s an... unusual variation on our standard contract. But with our resources, it wouldn’t be hard for ‘Selina Kyle’ to be erased. A clean slate.”

 

“Simple as that?” Selina reached out for an apple. “You ever try to clean an actual slate?”

 

The Englishwoman’s smile did not waver. “You are not the first to have harboured such doubts. I can assure you that they are quite without foundation.”

 

Selina would very much have liked to believe that. But the tide had gone out in the whisky bottle on the shelf of drinks over by the wall, and three of the windows had recently been replaced. So she didn’t.

 

“Thanks for your time, Ms. DeWitt. Ignorance probably is bliss. But I’ve generally found that knowing is half the battle.” She polished the apple before taking a bite. “And all the fun.” 

 

3.

 

“Toshiko...” Selina sprinkled uncertainty across her halting syllables with a master’s hand. “I... I have a favour to ask.”

 

Toshiko was perched on the other side of the bed. The hotness had been a substantial sweetener for this caper. But Selina could have done without her looking so small and fragile.

 

“You do? This wouldn’t happen to be connected with my magic computers, would it? The ones I can use to make people disappear?” Tosh looked away, and bit her lip. “This is a honey-trap.”

 

  _Made. Fuck. Abort._ “Ah.  Ooops.” Selina heard a door open and close downstairs. “One that hasn’t worked, I see.”

 

“No.” Toshiko raised her eyes again. “I’m afraid it has.”

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t worry. I got your DNA results back an hour ago.”

 

DNA? Oh. Selina remembered being surprised that Tosh was a scratcher.

 

“You’re human. Congratulations. It means that we don’t own you.”

 

“I’m ecstatic.  And who, little genius, owns _you_?”

 

Tosh flushed. “You’re about seventy seconds away from meeting him. That wouldn’t be pleasant. You’re a creature of shadows, Amy. Selina. You really wouldn’t like it in the sun.”

 

“That’s him on the stairs?”

 

“Yes.” Tosh gestured at the window.  “And this is me, giving you a chance.”

 

“I’m half-naked.”

 

“Cardiff on a Saturday night. You’ll fit in fine.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I think that you’re better than you know, Selina. And I think you’re worth saving.”

 

“What if you’re wrong?” Selina hated it when her voice was forced out like a stranger’s. 

 

“Then I’ll live with disappointment.  Forty seconds.”

 

FINIS

 


End file.
